Edge of Glory
by Loves Sock Monkeys
Summary: 1860 Quinn is forced into an arranged marriage, Santana comes from NYC to marry a man she's never met to escape crippling poverty. Santana and Quinn dislike each other on sight but must depend on each other to survive a cruel and terrible war that is tearing the country apart. Can they overcome all obstacles and really learn to love Posted under different penname previously.
1. A Fish Out of Water

_A/N - this is an AU story that takes place during the American Civil War. I would appreciate any feedback you have to offer. Being a huge fan of __Gone With The Wind__, I've always wanted to write a fiction about strong women during that incredible time period in American history and couldn't think of anyone better than Quinn and Santana and Mercedes to be those women._

_A/N 2 - Set during the American Civil War; Quinn is from the South forced into an arranged marriage, Mercedes is her freed slave, Santana comes from NYC to marry a man she's never met to escape crippling poverty. Santana and Quinn dislike each other from the first moment they meet but can they save each other when the harsh brutalities of war come to their doorsteps with their husbands off fighting and no one else to turn to for help. Does this grudging respect they finally develop turn into something more or is it just loneliness. I hope you enjoy the story. Take a minute to let me know if you do._

_**This was posted under a different penname before! It is my story.**_

_**Chapter 1**_ – _**A Fish Out Of Water**_

_**May 1860 Lima, Ohio**_

Quinn Fabray Hudson sat in her beautiful day dress feeling like she was going to faint. The sun was hot overhead and the tiny umbrella Mercedes held over her head and her pretty bonnet did nothing to stop the stifling heat. Why hadn't anyone told her that Ohio in May could be so stifling hot and humid? She was fanning herself briskly but all it was doing was blowing hot heavy air across her face. She was going to be a mess by the time they arrived back home from church.

She had been sitting in that buggy for half an hour while her new husband Finn was animatedly talking about horses with that handsome young blonde man, Sam Evans. It made her think of Rachel. She tried to think of something else.

It seemed all Finn ever talked about was horse breeding, state's rights and slavery. At least they both had that in common; a hatred for the institution of slavery but that really wasn't much to base a marriage on.

The blonde looked discerningly at her new husband. She had been raised by a man with a keen eye for strength, so Russell must have seen something in Finn Hudson or he wouldn't have entered into a partnership breeding horses with him. What marvelous qualities Russell had seen escaped Quinn's eye regarding Finn Hudson. He was nice enough and didn't drink and wasn't violent so as far as arranged marriages went, she could have done far worse.

Quinn was not stupid like so many of her friends at least pretended to be. She realized she was just the sweetener for the deal, a bargaining chip. She was pretty and smart and from day one her father saw her as an asset to be bartered. Love never entered into the picture in the Fabray home. Her mother was a silent, docile, porcelain doll and about as warm. Quinn Fabray was not sorry to leave her home, the only person she cared about anyway in South Carolina was Mercedes and she came with Quinn to Ohio. She just wished she felt something for the tall, handsome gentle man she was forced to marry.

She had tried talking to him but he had not been blessed with an overabundance of brains, so the things that interested Quinn; books, music, plays, were of no interest to Finn Hudson. Quinn knew more about horses than most people and loved their spirit and loyalty but breeding was not considered an endeavor for ladies and so she was not consulted or considered during those conversations. That had always upset her, she had a keen intellect and a curious nature but she had felt her father's buggy whip across her backside enough to have lost interest in horse breeding.

Quinn's father had moved from Kentucky to South Carolina to breed mules before she was born. Southern mules were small and scrawny and her father was a man ahead of his time. He saw a need for the strong breed of mule Kentucky bred and set out to make a fortune. That's exactly what he did. Russell Fabray always got what he wanted. He had wanted his only child to marry a horse breeder from Ohio and he got that too. Russell saw a war coming and knew there was going to be a need for strong able horses and had no qualms making a fortune off of the blood of others. Quinn despised her father and his values and had no feeling whatsoever for the cold detached woman who gave birth to her.

The beautiful blonde girl had come up North with her best friend Mercedes, the slave that had been given to her on her second birthday, whom she had grown up with and loved like a sister and freed as soon as she turned 18 years old and was able. She felt like a fish out of water from the moment she arrived. Northerners were wilder and more vulgar, even the women. They understood nothing of manners and grace. Longing to fit in she had tried but soon realized the other women in the community didn't trust her and wanted nothing to do with her. These women who knew how to plow alongside their husbands giving birth to their children along the way had carved a community out of a wilderness, they were pioneers, they were as tough as the land they lived on and Quinn Fabray Hudson was a lady, and she might have been a purple spotted zebra for all they could understand of her or her ways.

Quinn tried her best to befriend them but they made fun of her clothes and her accent and her manners and so she put up walls and withdrew behind them, only Mercedes knew the pain it caused her and was the only witness to her silent tears.

The blonde came out of her musings when Mercedes cleared her throat loudly, she looked back at her friend in fond amusement, "Something on your mind Cedes?"

"I just said we couldn't have this conversation under a shade tree? You know how to drive horses, can't you plant us under those trees down yonder." She grumbled before smiling, "Even if the scenery isn't half bad." She said staring pointedly at the handsome blonde man.

Quinn laughed delightedly, "Oh yes, I could see the look on Mr. Hudson's face when I take off in his wagon for the trees. He thinks I'm too stupid to lace my own boots." She looked with interest at Sam Evans, he was handsome enough, "Mr. Evans is an attractive man I suppose but he's too delicate looking for me and look at those lips, goodness he could swallow a person whole. Besides Cedes he's married already."

"I thought his wife died?" Mercedes said sadly, she read some of old Mrs. Fabray's romance novels and could easily fall into the drama and heartbreak of any situation, "Those poor little motherless babies and poor Mr. Sam losing his wife and newborn son on the same day. "It's tragic."

The smile died from Quinn's face, it was indeed tragic. She had forced Finn to drive her over when she heard about Rachel's death. She wanted to comfort those beautiful little children who looked so much like their mother. It had broken her heart to see them in dirty clothes and dirty faces. Rachel would never have allowed that. Quinn bathed them and cleaned their clothes and tried to draw them out of their shells, but they were as lost without their mother as Sam Evans was.

The tiny brunette had been the only woman who had been kind to Quinn when she arrived. She was a tiny ray of sunshine that loved to sing. Rachel talked endlessly about music and plays and her husband and two children. It had been a love match, and she had followed Sam Evans into the wilderness and blessed him with two beautiful children. Rachel had been so excited about the new baby. Quinn had taken over a few delicate lacy items she had made for the new baby as a gift and the brunette had cried with joy. The southerner was amazed at how free the brunette had been with her feelings and wished she could be more like her. Quinn had delighted in having at least one friend besides Cedes to save her from loneliness and despair in this very strange place. Then Rachel had died in childbirth leaving her husband and children and Quinn alone and desolate. The tiny brunette had always been too delicate for the wilds of Ohio, and Quinn wished Rachel and Sam Evans had considered that before moving to this godforsaken place.

The blonde was drawn from her musings by Mercedes talking about the poor widower and his orphaned children, "He married a woman from New York City. He's on his way to the train station in Chillicothe to meet her and bring her back. Evidently she is going to be the new mother for his children. I hope she's as kind as Rachel was," She said softly keenly feeling Rachel's loss again and willing herself not to cry, "He's leaving tomorrow and should be back within two weeks. We get to take care of Caroline and Thomas while he's gone. It will be a joy to have children in the house."

Mercedes scoffed loudly, "I hope that woman knows what she's got herself into leaving a big, bustling city like that to come to this here ghost town," She looked around disdainfully at the dirt roads and big fields that needed clearing.

Quinn said softly to her friend, "We don't always get to choose in this life, you know that better than anyone."

Mercedes did know that, purchased by Russell Fabray to be the house maid for his daughter, she never knew her own family. She was lucky that Quinn was a loving, kind person who was more interested in a friend than a slave. The heavier woman sat back in the wagon. She missed the cry of seagulls and the salty smelling spray of the ocean. She missed the poplar trees and the rain. If you had told her she would miss the South the day she left Carolina she wouldn't have believed you, but she did and knew her blonde friend did as well.

"I'm sorry Cedes, I'm just a little melancholy thinking about Rachel and her children. I didn't mean to make you sad as well," Quinn said lovingly.

"You didn't make me sad, Miss Quinn; I'm just a little homesick today is all, but it will be nice to have babies to fuss over for a spell," She perked up and smiled widely, "Miss Quinn if you don't get that good for nothing man of yours to get us out of the sun though, I'm going to have a heat stroke and die, and then I will spend eternity haunting you."

"I told you that you're free now; quit calling me Miss Quinn for pity's sake," She said irritably, wishing she could just grab the reigns and drive her and Mercedes somewhere, anywhere just to get away from this life she was stuck in and had not chosen.

_**-Q-S-Q-S-**_

_**Next up we get to meet Santana, I would love some reviews, be nice :D**_

_**Sorry to have killed off Rachel so soon but there will be flashbacks about her.**_


	2. The Long Journey Home

_**A/N - Set during the American Civil War; Quinn is from the South forced into an arranged marriage, Mercedes is her freed slave, Santana comes from NYC to marry a man she's never met to escape crippling poverty. Santana and Quinn dislike each other from the first moment they meet but can they save each other when the harsh brutalities of war come to their doorsteps with their husbands off fighting and no one else to turn to for help. Does this grudging respect they finally develop turn into something more or is it just loneliness. **_

_**Rating may change later. Posted under a previous pen name before. I am not using that account anymore.**_

_**Chapter 2 The Long Journey Home**_

_**May, 1860**_

Santana Maria Lopez sat in the hot, dirty coach car dripping sweat, wiping grime off her face and feeling disgusting. It was hot and she was hungry and thirsty. She had spent endless hours on the train ride from New York City to Ohio. Then she faced more endless hours in a buck back wagon with her new husband whom she had never met before. She had no idea where she was but the rocking motion of the train made her tired and nauseous at the same time. Looking out the window and watching the scenery wiz by made it worse. She closed her eyes and groaned trying to quell the growing nausea while thinking about the home she left behind.

Being married to a man she didn't know let alone love wasn't ideal but it was still better than the grueling poverty and slow starvation she faced in New York City. No matter how many hours she worked in that horrible sweatshop, she still didn't make enough to stave off the constant hunger that gnawed at her insides every single night. During the day she could stay busy enough to avoid it but at night, alone in the dark, hunger was her constant companion.

Her father worked when he could get it and drank himself into unconsciousness every night. He was angry and hostile and she had a hard time avoiding the repercussions of his anger and loneliness anymore. Santana thought it was because she was growing up and looking more and more like her dead mother. It reminded him of everything he lost by coming to America.

The sweatshop was dangerous work and she saw her countrywomen grow old before their time. Santana had watched children lose limbs and old ladies die from heat exhaustion. She was damned if she would lose her looks and even her life in that factory. She'd take her chances in the wilds of Ohio.

One of the few women who could read in her slum neighborhood, although she kept that fact well hidden, she had jumped at the advertisement for brides to help settle Ohio. Sam Evans had seemed safe and she felt compassion for his two motherless children. She had been a motherless child and she understood their grief and sorrow. She couldn't love this stranger but she could be a help to him on his land and in his home and in return she would be safe and fed. Santana Lopez understood there were not a whole lot of options open to a single, uneducated, poor woman of color in New York City in the year 1860. Her life was barely better than that of a slave down South and maybe worse, at least they got fed.

She jumped in alarm when she felt someone kick her leg, "You girl, you can't be on this car, blacks should ride in the cattle car." Looking up in alarm she saw a very large man glaring at her. He was standing in the aisle in front of her and it was clear he was not going away.

Santana Lopez was a woman with a fiery temper and her mouth had caused her a lot of problems in the past but this was different, she was all alone in a strange place and this man looked dangerous. She looked around trying to find a sympathetic ally and could see no one that she could bank on helping her, "I'm not black. I'm from New York City, I was born there. I'm just very brown from working in the sun." She lied as politely as possible, not willing to try to explain the diffence between black and Hispanic to this ignoramous.

"Listen girl, get your black ass up and get it to the cattle car so white men can sit down. I ain't standing all the way to Ohio." He said belligerently, looking ready to force her if necessary.

She looked around desperately and saw everyone avert their eyes, well that explained why no one sat next to her the whole trip, they thought she was black. That was just great; she was in real trouble now. Santana sighed but refused to get up, "I am not black and I paid full price for this ticket same as everyone else and I'm not riding in the cattle car." She said through clenched teeth, "My ass is as white as yours." She muttered under her breath so no one could hear her, "And probably a damn sight cleaner as well." She heard a choked laugh turn into a cough and quickly looked at the seat behind her and saw two men wearing plain clothes and black hats. The young man had twinkling brown eyes and he appeared to find the situation rather amusing or at least the Latina's answer.

The older stern and unsmiling man stood up and looked at the angry bigot, then at Santana before standing between them speaking to the man, "There seems to be some mistake sir, I have been riding behind this woman since Buffalo. I believe her to be telling the truth. My name sir is the Reverend Abraham Rountree and this is my son Henry," He said pointing to the merry young man, "If thee would like to sit I pray thee to take my seat next to my son and I will ride the rest of the way to Ohio next to the young woman." Her turned for the first time and addressed Santana directly, "If that would be acceptable to thee young lady?" He said gruffly but politely.

The Latina looked at the two men and could see they were Quakers, everyone knew they were abolitionists and Christians and if he wanted to defend her honor it was fine with her, "That would be quite acceptable, thank you sir." He nodded and turned back to loud man and pointed at his now empty seat, "If thee please sir?"

The angry man grumbled but took the proffered seat as Rev. Rountree sat down next to Santana. She looked at him and said quietly, "Thank you sir."

"It is not only unseemly but dangerous for a young woman to be travelling a great distance alone. It is also quite unseemly for a married man to hold open conversations with a young single woman without her parents, brothers or fiancé present."

Santana felt like a scolded child and it riled her up but she knew this man for all his stiffness was being protective and kind and she swallowed her pride and her rude retort. Much to her aggravation she heard the same choked laugh come from behind her and she stifled the impulse to turn around and smack Henry Rountree into Ohio. She finally smiled though, Santana had only read about Quakers and they seemed a very serious group but at least Henry had a sense of humor.

She turned and stared out the window and was grateful there was an upside; she wouldn't have to listen to a preacher pontificate all the way to her new home. Huffing loudly, she crossed her arms and closed her eyes to try to get some sleep.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-**_

The train jerked and belched steam and smoke and came to a complete stop waking up a sleeping Santana. She was horrified to find her head sleeping soundly on the Reverend's shoulder as he sat as stiff as a board. Mumbling an apology, she wiped her mouth and prayed she hadn't drooled on the man. She was a little groggy but looking out the window she saw they were at the Chillicothe, Ohio depot and this was her stop. She quickly gathered her belongings and made a hasty exit; stopping briefly she looked back at the kind Quakers and said a very grateful thank you to both of them as she glared briefly at the idiot next to Henry Rountree.

Grabbing her meager belongings packed in one beat-up old carpet bag, she looked around the platform and saw no one that matched Sam Evans description, so she sat on the bench and waited. Hours later she was still waiting in the heat of an early humid heat wave in Ohio. Santana scoffed as she thought what a frightening mess awaited her future husband. Hey would probably take one look and drive off. The Latina wasn't prone to insecurities, she took whatever life threw her way and did her best to survive it, but she had taken a huge chance leaving New York City. She had no money and no way to make any in order to get back to New York City and the brothels were filled with girls that had found themselves in her predicament.

It was getting dark and there was no sign of her future husband. Getting up stiffly, she grabbed her bag and went inside the meager station. An elderly gentleman was sitting behind the counter; he was bald and had on spectacles that rode low on his nose. He looked up when he saw her enter, he'd seen her sitting there all day long and it had piqued his curiosity.

"I'm sorry to bother you sir, my husband is coming from Lima and appears to have run into some trouble. It's getting cold and dark outside I was wondering if maybe I could sit inside here until he showed up?" She said softly unaccustomed to asking for help from anyone.

The man chewed his lower lip and looked at the thin young woman, it was against the rules but she looked like something the cat drug in and he felt a surge of pity for the girl. He cursed his soft heart, "That would be fine but I lock up in two hours."

She looked panic stricken for just a second before she mastered the look on her face, "I'm sure he'll be here by then."

"Would you like a hot cup of tea ma'am, I'm about to make one for myself?" He asked kindly.

She nodded gratefully and smiled, "My name is Santana not ma'am and tea would be delightful, thank you sir."

"Well that would make me Charlie not sir." He smiled back a genuine smile that reached his eyes and headed back to put the kettle on the old wood burner.

He set the kettle on to heat and filled a pan and set that to heat as well, from the looks of her she might appreciate a wash up. Charlie looked around and found a clean cloth as well as some berry pie, an apple and some bread and cheese his wife had packed him for his supper. When the kettle started to whistle he set the tea to steep and poured the hot water into a pan and laid the cloth over the side. Walking back up front he spoke to the quiet young woman, "I heated up some extra water, thought you might appreciate a clean-up before you meet up with your man. I put it in that room there so you could have some privacy." He gestured gruffly with his head as he went and sat back behind the counter and picked up his penny novel so he could read about the land out West he dreamed of and would never get to see.

Santana didn't trust herself to speak, the man's blatant kindness had startled her and she was afraid she would cry if she thanked him. Getting up she made her way to the back room and dipped the cloth in the hot water. She laid it over her face and sighed out loud from the pleasurable feeling of getting clean again. Washing herself completely made her feel like a new woman or at least the old Santana and not this helpless version of herself she'd become since the bigot on the train frightened her earlier.

Walking confidently back into the train station office she beamed at the man who looked at her with raised eyebrows, "Well Missus you sure do clean up nice." His eyes twinkled with merriment and Santana found herself liking this stranger already.

"Thank you Charlie I think I left about 5 pounds of grime and dirt in that pan though and you'll have to burn the cloth." She laughed a musical tinkling laugh feeling wonderful since getting clean. Charlie joined her in the laugh.

"My wife as usual packed way too much food for my supper; I would be honored if you would share a meal with a lonely old man." He said it in a way that refusal would be rude, seeing she was a proud young woman.

She smiled fondly at him, on to his underhanded tricks, "Well I don't see how I can refuse such a kind invitation."

He grinned rather proud of himself, "You have a sit down and I'll bring everything out." Charlie hurried to lay out their meager supper along with the tea.

The two lonely people proceeded to share what turned out to be the best meal Santana had eaten in weeks. They shared stories and drank tea, polished off all the food and played checkers until it was at least an hour past closing time.

"Well, you best grab your bag and come home with me. The missus and I never had young'uns and she'll delight in fussing over you and I can't in clear conscience leave you here alone in the dark on this platform with hobos and strangers about. Besides your man can't travel at night, we'll come back in the morning and I'm sure he'll be here by then." Charlie said kindly.

"You've been too kind already. I'll be fine here." The Latina said stubbornly.

"Suit yourself, I'll just send my Gracie to come fetch you although she won't be happy she has to trudge here in the dark to get you." He shrugged mischievously, "With her rheumatism it might take her a bit and pain her some…."

Santana huffed out annoyed, "All right fine, I'm coming." She snatched her bag angry at herself for falling for Charlie's obvious tricks but relieved she didn't have to sit on that dark cold platform alone all night. She hoped that Sam Evans hadn't changed his mind or that some harm hadn't befallen him.

Charlie was locking the door when she heard the sound of wagon bells. Turning she could just slightly make out in the moonlight and a solitary lamp swinging from the wagon post a young man with hair the color of sun drenched straw.

"Miss Santana is that you?" The man called out in a strong voice.

"Sam Evans?" She called back.

The man pulled up in front of the depot and jumped down from the wagon, "Oh thank the good Lord you are alright. I had a bit of trouble with my wheel and got held up. I am so sorry to have left you unattended so long." He said apologetically and kindly.

Charlie eyed the young man up, "I hope you have intentions to treat this young woman far better than you have demonstrated so far sir." He said sternly.

Santana almost chuckled at his paternal scolding of the young handsome blonde man standing in front of her wringing his hat nervously with his hands and bobbing his head up and down in agreement. He seemed like a kind man and the Latina felt bad for his obvious discomfort, "I'm sure Mr. Evans is quite the gentleman Charlie, anyone can throw a bad wheel, isn't that right?"

Sam Evans looked up in surprise, "Was she teasing him?" He thought, Rachel used to tease him lovingly all the time and the thought of her brought mixed and bittersweet emotions. He missed his wife and best friend so much it choked him sometimes but it felt disloyal to this beautiful young woman who had come so far to wed him to think of Rachel now.

He sighed gratefully and looked at her kindly, "Indeed sir, I will take care of her in the manner befitting a young lady who has done me such an honor as to be my wife. I give you my word sir."

Santana looked at the earnest kind young man with the blonde hair, blue eyes and wide mouth full of white teeth and realized she could have done far worse than Sam Evans as her husband.

Sam stepped forward and held out his hand for her, "Miss Santana, we have a long trip ahead of us so if you would be so kind."

Santana turned and instinctively hugged Charlie, "I'll never forget your kindness, thank you." She whispered sincerely suddenly nervous about the new life looming ahead of her as soon as she entered Sam Evan's wagon.

Charlie patted her back awkwardly, "Just be happy, if you have half the happiness that me and my Gracie have you'll be blessed. He seems like a nice enough fella."

Grabbing her bag, Santana Lopez turned and took the hand of her soon to be husband and stepped into her new life.

_**Next up Quinn and Santana meet and HATE each other on sight… if you like the story, please review.**_


	3. Love and Hate

_A/N - this is an AU story historical fiction._

_Set during the American Civil War; Quinn is from the South forced into an arranged marriage, Mercedes is her freed slave; Santana comes from NYC to marry a man she's never met to escape crippling poverty. Santana and Quinn dislike each other from the first moment they meet but can they save each other when the harsh brutalities of war come to their doorsteps with their husbands off fighting and no one else to turn to for help. Does this grudging respect they finally develop turn into something more or is it just loneliness. _

_**Chapter 3 Love and Hate**_

Santana was dead on her feet by the time they got to the Evans home. It was a large log cabin, nicely made, with real glass in the windows. Ohio wasn't New York City but that suited Santana just fine. New York City meant starvation, terrible work conditions, and grueling poverty while Ohio was filled with untold opportunities.

Santana Lopez was ready for a change, anything was better than where she had been. She had grown up in a tenement slum on the Lower East Side. Her building had 120 people all sharing four outhouses and one water pump at the back of the building. Families with four or more children all living together in one room flats. No one celebrated the birth of babies as many of them didn't live to see their second birthday, and if they did it was only to face a bleak future filled with hard work, and starvation. It was a hopeless existence, and in Ohio she felt hope for maybe the first time in her life. The flat, quiet, open land and the large log cabin Sam Evans built seemed liked paradise to her.

Sam helped the clearly exhausted woman down from the wagon, "Miss Santana, I made the bed up inside for you in the large bedroom. I'll sleep in the barn until we are legally wed. The preacher is on a circuit and will be returning to these parts in about two weeks or so," She was looking at him through glazed and tired eyes, "We do have services every Sunday, except during harvesting but it's not a genuine preacher that runs them, just a deacon."

Santana decided it might not be the best time to tell him she was Roman Catholic; they hadn't discussed religion in their brief correspondence. She hadn't seen a single person of color since leaving New York City. She felt she was already different enough, she didn't know if being Catholic would be a deal breaker and she had no money to get back to New York City. Well, it probably didn't matter anyway; she hadn't had much faith in God for a very long time, not since her mother had died. Santana would just fake it to get along, she was determined to fit in and not embarrass Sam Evans. She tried to look around, but was too tired to concentrate, "Where are the children?" Santana politely covered a yawn with the back of her hand.

"They are staying with the Hudson's. Rachel just loved Quinn so much, she was her best friend. Quinn, Mrs. Hudson, was very good friends with my deceased wife, Rachel," he said sadly. As tired as she was, Santana could see his heartbreak. She listened politely as he continued.

"Her husband breeds horses. They are watching the children so I could pick you from the station. My children are very excited to meet you. We can go pick them up tomorrow if you like, after you've had a chance to rest and get familiar with your new surroundings," Sam saw her eyes flitter closed, and snap back open, "I'm so sorry, please forgive me, here I am rambling on while you're dead on your feet. Is there anything you need before I unload the wagon?"

"Just for you to stop calling me ma'am, it makes me feel old," she teased lightly; "If we are going to be married you should probably call me Santana. I'll call you Sam and that way we can get to know each other better," She smiled gently at him; he seemed so wounded and vulnerable. She wasn't a nice person, she never had been but she had never gone out of her way to hurt anyone either. This man had clearly loved his dead wife, he probably always would, but he needed someone to help raise his children and run this farm. Maybe that was enough of a foundation to build a friendship, Santana sincerely hoped so.

Santana had worked like a slave in the sweat shops of the city, but she couldn't recall ever being this tired and sore in her life, "What are the children's names and ages?"

He smiled at her, she seemed kind and intelligent, and despite being exhausted was showing an interest in him and his children. She was beautiful and feisty, just like Rachel, "Thomas LeRoy is four years old and Caroline Shelby is two years old. Our other son, Noah Joseph died a few hours after his mother," He finished painfully, his green eyes glistening with tears. He cleared his throat, uncomfortable with the transparency of his feelings in front of this woman who was still a stranger.

"I'm sorry Sam, for your loss. I'll be the best partner, and mother I know how to be," She said with tears in her eyes, "I know I'm not Rachel," she said gently, reaching out and lying her hand on his forearm, "but I'll do my best for you and your children."

"Thank you, Miss Santana. I'm sure you will, and I'm also sure the children will love you. They've been lost without Rach… without their mother," He mentally scolded himself; he had to quit talking about Rachel every five minutes. Sam was a kind person, and he didn't want his new wife to be to feel unwanted. Still, it would be difficult; he had loved Rachel all his life.

"I'm sure they are. I lost my mother when I was very young as well. I understand how they feel, and what they're going through. I promise you I will love them, and care for them as if they were my own," she said genuinely, "I really am going to turn in now. I don't think I can remain standing another minute. Thank you for everything, Sam," She headed for the cabin door.

"I'll bring your bag in, and stoke the fire for you. Let me unbuckle the horse from the wagon. I can tend to him after I get you all settled," He called after her retreating form, chuckling at the tired wave of acknowledgement he received in return. He smiled as he thought to himself that Rachel would have approved of his choice.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-**_

Santana slowly woke up to unfamiliar surroundings, and panicked slightly. It was either just getting light or just getting dark; and she really had no idea if it was dusk or dawn. She sat up slowly, every inch of her body hurt, and she moaned in pain.

Sam knocked on the closed bedroom door, "Miss Santana? I was wondering if you would like a hot bath. I can heat up the water and fill the iron tub if you'd like."

"I would love that Sam, thank you so much," She sat on the edge of the feather bed seeing the room for the first time. Rachel's feminine influence was everywhere she looked. It was a very pleasant room, and much nicer than anything she had ever lived in before. It was simple and elegant, and displayed the love Rachel felt for her family. There was a tintype in a frame sitting in a place of honor on a lace doily on the dresser. Santana got up slowly, stretching her muscles. She walked over and picked it up, it was Sam and Rachel's wedding picture. Sam was clearly uncomfortable wearing a suit; he looked positively choked by the tie he was wearing. His blonde hair had been carefully slicked down, but it still flopped into his eyes. Santana chuckled fondly, rubbing her thumb over the image. He looked so young, and absolutely terrified. He was a child about to wed and leave a comfortable home to conquer the wilds of Ohio, with his young blushing bride at his side. Santana's eyes darted to the girl at his side; she was stunning but not conventionally beautiful. Her nose was a bit too big; her hair was unruly and curled in tendrils around her face, and she looked nervous as well. She was clearly a tiny woman, and Santana felt a stabbing pain in her gut. She wanted to go back in time, and warn the petite girl that Ohio would kill her and her youngest child. It was painful to look at Rachel's face; it beamed with pride, joy, hope, and adoration. She wondered how Sam kept this picture in plain sight, how he could bear to see her face every day. It was painful for Santana to look at, and she'd never met the girl.

A shy knock interrupted her pensive musings, "Miss Santana, the bath is ready. I put more water on to boil, and I'll be in the barn until you finish. It's private, I promise."

"I believe you, and Sam please call me Santana; no Miss, no Ma'am, ok?"

"Ok, Mi….Ok, Santana."

She smiled into the mirror in front of her, and shook her head. He was a very kind man so far. She had never met a man as sweet in her life. He would be considered feminine if he didn't radiate strength and masculinity. She frowned when she felt she was forgetting something, "Sam?" She called out, "What time is it?"

"It's very early in the morning, nearly 6 am."

"I slept a whole day?" she was mortified, she didn't want her new husband to think she was lazy or something, "I'm so sorry, I can't believe I slept that long. What about the children, did you go fetch them from your friends?"

"The children are fine, Mi… Santana," he corrected, "They are being spoiled by Quinn, Finn, and Mercedes. Another day more or less won't mean a thing. I'm actually surprised you are up already, it was a long, hard journey, and I thought you'd sleep at least till noon."

She was disappointed in herself, "We can go get them after I bathe, I'm anxious to meet them?"

Sam smiled through the door, "After your bath and after you have some breakfast, it's been a while since you ate, I bet. We can't have you getting sick on us, now can we, Santana?"

She grinned that he got her name right finally, "Alright then, after a bath and breakfast," she relented reluctantly.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-**_

Quinn had gotten Thomas and Caroline dressed and fed, and was keeping them entertained until Sam and his bride-to-be arrived. He had ridden his horse over last night to let them know they had arrived safely, and Miss Lopez was still sleeping. He had stayed for dinner, the children clinging to him, needy and uncertain. Finn had teased him about his horse, offering to get him a good price at the glue factory for her. The two men had then excused themselves to go talk about manly things in the barn. It irked Quinn no end that she didn't get any answers about the new woman she was dying to meet. She couldn't understand why all men thought she was an idiot. She thought Yankees were different, more progressive than the "gentlemen" she grew up with. Southern men thought all women were hot house flowers who needed protecting from things like education and the truth.

She was sad to see the once outgoing and happy children so sad and clingy with their father. Of course they thought he was never coming back, Rachel disappeared and never returned. She sighed sadly, how could she explain death to a four year old when she didn't understand it herself?

Well, all her questions would be answered soon. Sam Evans had promised he was bringing her over this morning after breakfast. She prayed that she would make a good mother to the sad, confused, motherless children. She hoped fervently that she was like Rachel and not the other women in the community who shunned her for being a Southerner from South Carolina.

Mercedes was cleaning the morning breakfast dishes, "You are going to collapse in a tizzy if you don't calm yourself down. They'll be here soon enough," she smiled to herself at the fuss Quinn was making, "she probably won't even stay long. I give her one Ohio winter, and she'll go running back to that big city she's from," Mercedes chuckled. Lord knows she had wanted to run back to the South after weeks of blizzards and bored isolation.

"Cedes, don't scold me, you know I'm anxious for her to be a good mother to these poor babies," she whispered to her friend.

"The Good Lord will provide and watch out for them," she said trustingly.

"I'm sure, just as well as he provided for and protected Rachel and baby Noah," Quinn spat bitterly. She had little use for the cruel, judgmental God of her childhood, and even less for the spiteful god who took mothers from their children.

Mercedes would have been shocked if she hadn't already known her former master's mind, "Maybe if you had a baby of your own to care for, it might take your mind of things you can't change."

The blonde bit her lip, "Is it not enough I have to hear that from Finn night and day? Now I have to hear it from you? Talk about things I can't change, Cedes, I have no say when a child might be conceived," she snapped angrily, her hands on her hips, and her hazel eyes blazing.

The former slave wisely kept her mouth shut about the matter. Quinn Fabray could cut a grown man to pieces with a quirk of her eyebrow. She was an intimidating woman when she had a mind to be, and many in South Carolina would always remember facing the ire and wrath of Miss Quinn Fabray. Mercedes had spent her entire life with the woman, she knew when to push her, and when to leave things be.

Quinn glared at her friend a moment more for good measure. She walked over to the children kissing their curls, and rubbing their backs affectionately, "Your Daddy will be coming soon with your new Mama," she didn't miss Thomas' scowl. He was so like Rachel in temperament even if his looks favored Sam; everything he was feeling was all over his face, he wore his heart on his sleeve. Thomas was a ball of energy, just like his mother. His sister, Caroline, seemed to inherit her father's laid back optimism, and calm nature, but she was Rachel's doppelganger. It was frightening how much she resembled her mother in looks and build. Quinn loved them dearly, and the memory of Rachel made her choke up with emotion. Besides Mercedes, Rachel was the only person who saw beyond Quinn's façade. The only person who truly loved and accepted her, flaws and all, and Quinn missed her dearly.

They all looked up at the sound of the horse driven wagon pulling up to their home. Quinn put her arms around the children protectively, "Come on my little chicks, let's go greet your Daddy and your new Mama. Do you remember what I taught you to say?"

She was anxious and it showed in her disconnected movements which were usually so graceful and practiced. Quinn adjusted her bonnet and dress, and pulled on her white gloves. She was ready to greet Rachel's replacement.

They all walked out the front door, as Sam was helping Santana down off the wagon. The sun was bright and fierce and blinded Quinn for a moment, and she put her hand up to shield her eyes. It gave Santana a moment to look over the blonde and she was stunned. She was the most beautiful woman the Latina had ever seen. Not only was she gorgeous, she was classy, and clearly had money and education. A surge of jealous rage shot through Santana. She judged the woman as a spoiled aristocrat, one of the upper class who had helped make Santana's life a misery in New York. It didn't help when the women opened her mouth to speak, and out came the soft Carolina accent. Not only was she a rich bitch, but she was a Rebel, a Southerner as well. Her eyes nearly popped out when Mercedes followed holding each child by their hand. So on top of everything else, she owned slaves too. Santana hated her on sight. Who wore a fancy dress and white gloves on a horse ranch in the wilds of the Northeast? Was the woman crazy?

Quinn smiled politely but she was shocked. She had never asked Sam or Finn the woman's name, but she didn't expect a foreigner. The woman looked Mexican which meant she was probably Catholic as well. It was unsettling. She viewed Mercedes as her equal, and yet she knew that there was a hierarchy that was considered proper in society. It was clear to Quinn Fabray Hudson that Sam Evans had not only married out of his class, but way below it. Quinn schooled her features quickly; she had years of practice with wearing masks and hiding her feelings.

It was too late, Santana had noticed and felt humiliated and judged by this dressed up French poodle with the nasally voice, the quiet southern accent, and her own personal slave.

Holding her hands together in front nervously, Quinn smiled and welcomed Sam, "Mr. Evans how wonderful to see you again. I'm so sorry, but I just realized I never asked you the name of your fiancé."

Before Sam could answer, Santana blurted out, "It's Santana Lopez, and just in case you were wondering I speak English, I know how to read, and I was born in this country," she was barely containing her anger.

Quinn froze for a second before she faked a polite laugh, "Why of course I wasn't wondering any such thing. I just wanted to get your name is all? Santana Lopez, this is my husband, Mr. Finn Hudson and my friend, Mercedes," she finished stiffly. The woman had irritated her. She was flustered, and she hated feeling that way. Now that she was standing close to the woman, she could see Santana Lopez was one of the most beautiful women she had ever met. That fact alone bothered Quinn. She had always been the prettiest woman wherever she went.

Santana Lopez was also fiery, independent, and not afraid to speak her mind. Quinn hated her even more, and was jealous beyond imagining. She had never been allowed to speak her mind, not once in her life. Southern convention forbid it, she was raised to be a model of quiet restraint and good manners. First her father kept her under his thumb with intimidation and withering glares of disapproval, her mother and Mammy with more physical measures, and now she was married to a man she didn't love and who didn't listen to a word she had to say. He thought she was just a pretty face without a brain. She wasn't free to live her own life or have her own opinions, and she really resented the freedom that a woman like Santana Lopez had. What she wouldn't give to be free to live her own life.

Santana nodded politely at Finn and Mercedes. She had only ever seen free slaves in New York, so she wasn't really sure how to address the darker woman standing with the children. She would address it with Sam later.

Quinn and Santana glared at each other while Sam and Finn just looked on confused. Something was happening between Santana and Quinn but they had no clue what that something was. They really didn't want to get involved in women's business anyway. Sam cleared his throat politely, "Miss Santana, I'd like to introduce you to my children; this is Thomas and this is Caroline," he waved his children towards his fiancé.

Quinn turned towards the young girl and smiled encouragingly, and Caroline, the youngest, took two steps forward and curtsied politely, "Pleased to meet ya," she looked back at her aunt, "that ok?" she whispered to her Aunt Quinn.

"That was perfect, Caroline honey," she whispered back proudly as the girl beamed with pride. Her wide smile, so reminiscent of Rachel's caused both Sam's and Quinn's heart to painfully flutter.

Quinn nodded towards Thomas but the boy held back. She coughed and nodded again, but he shook his head quickly. He wanted his mama back, not this stranger. Sam put an end to his hesitation by sternly calling his name, "Thomas LeRoy, I'd like you to meet Miss Santana Lopez."

The boy didn't want to be disobedient towards his daddy. He shuffled forwards, and took off his hat and bowed, "Ma'am," he said politely, quickly taking three steps back to his original spot next to Mercedes. He kept staring at a white pebble on the ground near his boots, and refused to meet anyone's eyes. He was polite, and that was all he was willing to be towards this strange woman who wasn't his mama.

Santana watched the two children with a soft look on her face. It brought back some very painful memories seeing young Thomas's anger, and knowing that little Caroline would never remember her mother. It had been hard for her; she had been slightly older than Caroline when she lost her own mother. It had been many years ago, and though she could no longer remember details of her mother, the pain was just as real and poignant. She wouldn't rush Thomas, and would do her best to encourage them both to remember their real mama. They were lovely children, and since seeing Rachel's wedding picture, she felt oddly duty bound to honor the young woman's memory and sacrifice.

She knelt down in front of Caroline, "I'm very happy to meet you both. I came a long way on a great, big train. Have either of you ever seen a great, big train?" Santana inquired kindly.

Caroline shook her head eagerly, "I not, but trains go choo-choo," she said loudly, startling the horses and making everyone laugh.

"They do, you're a very smart girl, Caroline. Thomas have you ever seen a big train?"

"No, ma'am," he said politely without looking up.

"Well maybe one day we can all go on a train ride together," she turned to Sam, "Your children are lovely, Sam."

Quinn was aghast at the familiarity; it had taken her two years to stop calling Finn, Mr. Hudson. She had called him Mr. Hudson on their honeymoon, and still did so in front of strangers. She couldn't believe the horrific manners of these Yankees, they were abominable.

Santana let Sam know she was tired, and so the little family headed home, making excuses why they couldn't stay for tea. She just wanted to get as far away from Quinn Fabray Hudson as quickly as possible, and sitting down to tea with the unbearable woman was not going to happen anytime soon.

Although it hurt Quinn's feelings, it was just another breech of manners as far as the blonde could see, and she knew Cedes agreed with her from the look on her face. Quinn felt justified knowing that Mercedes had not been very impressed with the woman either.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-**_

The new family sat down to their first meal together, Santana offered to cook but Sam insisted on doing it himself. He had the children help, and she watched in awe as they laughed and made a mess and thoroughly enjoyed themselves. Sam was clearly a wonderful, loving, doting father and Rachel had done a good job raising them.

She had never been part of a family that was close and openly displayed affection like the Evans family did. Her family barely spoke to each other, and her father had always been angry. She had never spent time just being with him, and she grew up afraid of the man's temper. The sight of Sam and his two children warmed her heart, and she thought she might really have found a place she could truly belong.

Little Caroline had warmed to her immediately. The child missed her mama, but the memory of Rachel was fading fast in her little mind. The things she would remember all her life were her mama's singing and her scent of lemon verbena, but little else. She attached herself immediately to Santana, and when the meal was served, Caroline crawled into Santana's lap to sit with her.

"Caroline, come sit in your own seat and let Miss Santana eat her meal," he directed quietly.

"Please let her stay, Sam. She's fine where she's at," Two sets of brown eyes looked beseechingly up at him, and he found he couldn't say no to either of them. He smiled and nodded his approval.

Thomas stayed as far away from her as possible, but it didn't upset her. She knew how he felt; when her mother died she stopped talking for almost a year. Santana had been hurt, confused, and angry, and clearly Thomas felt exactly the same way. She had been younger than Thomas, but the pain would be sharper and last longer for the young boy who had more memories of Rachel than Caroline did.

Sam sat the family down after dinner cleanup, and read a story from the book he pulled down from the mantle over the fireplace. It was another first for Santana, it was marvelous. She relaxed by the fire with a cup of tea, and let the warmth of the flames and her new family wash over her as she listened to Sam's soft voice read The Three Musketeers to her and his children; before she knew it, Caroline was giggling and poking at her, "you falled asleep at the best part, Miss Stana."

She grabbed the little girl, and pulled her close, tickling her sides and eliciting more giggles from the playful child, "Well that was very naughty of me, wasn't it Caroline?"

Santana kept tickling until the little girl breathlessly begged her to stop. Caroline got on her knees on Santana's lap, and turned to face her; without warning she leaned forward and kissed the woman on the cheek and hugged her tightly. The simple act of love and acceptance moved Santana to tears. She looked over and saw Sam's eyes sparkling with unshed tears of happiness as well. Only Thomas looked unmoved as he sat as far from her as possible, staring unhappily into the fire and wishing his mama Rachel was here instead of this woman.

"Well, bedtime everyone," Sam stood up and set the book on the mantle, "we have some work to get done around here tomorrow, don't we Thomas? It's planting season, so we are going to be very busy for the next few weeks."

"Yes, sir," Thomas showed some excitement for the first time since Santana met him. He considered himself a big boy not a baby like Caroline, and wanted to help his father with the planting this spring.

The children were all tucked in bed, and Sam kissed Santana sweetly on the cheek and headed to the barn to spend the night. She lay in her bed reviewing the day, and all she could think about was that arrogant Hudson woman. She just couldn't get the woman's beautiful face out of her mind. She tossed and turned trying not to think of Quinn Hudson, but when she finally fell asleep it was with the blonde's face on her mind.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-**_

Finn was curled up next to his wife who had been silent as a stone since the Evans family left. He had learned to respect his wife's moods; she could be scary when she was angry. He cleared his throat trying to be forceful and manly, but failing miserably. He was just too easy going and nice for all that, Quinn would have said he was too stupid and panty-waisted but she was not in a good mood since meeting Santana Lopez.

He kissed her shoulder, and moved up her neck to her ear. She knew what he wanted, and sighed softly, it was her job as his wife. She just wished she felt something, anything for the large man-child, but she didn't. Emboldened by her reluctant consent, he quickly made his way on top of her. Quinn closed her eyes, and all she could picture was Santana Lopez' face. It was oddly intoxicating, terribly confusing, and highly unsettling, but before she could process thoughts or feel anything Finn grunted loudly and collapsed on top of her. It was just like every other time.

Maybe this was how love making was supposed to be, she had no other experience with men other than Finn Hudson, and nothing to compare it too. Her mother was a cold, distant woman who only found comfort in her brandy. She told Quinn on her wedding day that relations with her new husband were something she would have to endure. She hadn't the courage to discuss it with Rachel, but she had been so in love with Sam and he with her that they just seemed so passionate together. Quinn couldn't imagine them being as cold and mechanical in the bedroom as she and Finn were. Distant and emotionless were not in Rachel's nature, but they were second nature to Quinn. She wondered again how she and Rachel had been such good friends being so different in temperaments.

As always, Quinn longed for more. She wanted to feel passion and fire as Finn trailed kisses down her neck. She wanted to feel something! Quinn listened to her husband snoring loudly as she laid awake half the night thinking of Santana Lopez, the fiery woman who spoke her mind, and traveled fearlessly and alone to a place she'd never been before. As much as she irritated Quinn, the blonde had to give her credit for being smart and courageous. That just irritated her even more; Santana had the freedom of choice that Quinn had always longed for.

She turned over and let hot tears drip on to her pillow, maybe this time Finn planted a child within her. It would be someone she could love. She knew she would do a much better job parenting than her own did. How she longed for someone that would love her back, someone she could shower with love and attention. 'Maybe this time,' she thought to herself as she drifted off to an uneasy sleep with Santana Lopez, and little blonde babies playing in her mind.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-**_

_**So is it really hate they feel for each other? It's a thin line between love and hate! ;)**_

_**I hope you liked it, if you did please leave a comment.**_

_**War is coming soon, and life will get hard for the three women and children.**_


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